Prove It
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: After some unexpected sexual exercise, Ash issues Misty a wedding day challenge… underwear optional. Pokeshipping. Lime.


_Disclaimer:_ I would settle for owning a copy of "Celeb-r-a-t-e." And maybe the ending theme of "Lucario and the Mystery of Mew," as well. (Anyone know where I can find me some of that?)

_Author's Note:_ I almost feel like this is an apology for "Apologies"… Eh. Whatever—any excuse is a good excuse to write heavy lime. X3

_Warnings:_ Heavy lime. (You should really start paying attention to A/Ns.)

**XXX**

**Prove It**

**XXX**

Her lips crashed against his own with a sort of desperate ferocity that made his knees week.

"_Misty_…"

The young woman responded to his groan with one of her own, gloved fingers woven into his ever-rumpled black locks; his hands curled around her middle, forcing her backwards—she hit the far wall with a muffled _thump_, her dress's many layers of chiffon and taffeta silk cushioning the blow. It was actually difficult to feel her legs beneath all of the fabric…

She helped remedy that by lassoing his waist with one of them, effectively grinding their overheated pelvises.

Both froze for a moment with a heady moan.

Then he was kissing her again, and she kissing him, frantically and heedlessly. Her hastily raised veil slid back down her forehead when his frenzied fingers jarred it, and he kissed her through that, as well—the semi-translucent, opalescent shroud tickling their lips when they touched it; they strained and tore against the course material, hating the barrier that kept them apart, but not wanting to let go of one another long enough to get rid of the thing.

It was Misty who finally managed to rip the decorative mantle from her head, and once she had she tossed the cursed circlet away like a Frisbee. The action caused four bobby pins popped out of place, clattering to the ground with an echoing ring; in their absence, three luxurious curls were allowed to bounce free.

For some reason, this made Ash's blood burn hotter. The vibrant red ringlets glowed like fire against the pale porcelain of her bosom, catching in the valley of her breasts as she panted, eager and breathless.

"You shouldn't have done that…" he whispered into her skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the bare flesh of her throat. His fingers skimmed lower, tracing the outline of her body; his knee pressed against her center, hidden amidst the poof of her bell-shaped skirt. Even still, she whimpered airily, tightening her thighs around his hips. "That'll take forever to fix…"

"We've got time," Misty breathed, her fair face flushed and blue eyes bright and _God_, how he loved her…! She cupped his cheeks in her thin hands and pulled his face closer; as if about to kiss him, she mumbled into the silence: "Now shut up— you're too coherent."

Ash did as he was told.

And so the tangled pair slid down the wall, reverently hissing the other's name. The sound of a zipper; a pair of white panties joined the discarded veil on the other side of the room. A grunt, a sigh… Ash's tuxedo, made of a velveteen material, squeaked slightly as his back rubbed against the floor; the flower of Misty's dress ruffled and sang as she moved atop him, gloved fists clenched around his now-wrinkled cummerbund. His fingers danced up her lower back, catching on her corset bodice and helping her maintain her passionate rhythm.

Their mutual cries were blotted out by the sonorous ringing of the church bells; the unseen clock tower had struck six.

Spent and satisfied, the hazy-eyed Misty flopped forward, curling up on Ash's chest with her head beneath his chin and a faint smile on her lips. Equally content, the young man played with the loose whorls of his lover's ocher hair, marveling at their silken softness and sweet scent of salt and daffodils. And perhaps they would have laid there like that forever, had it not been for one rather pressing fact:

"…you know we're getting married in half an hour, right?" Ash pointed out after a few minutes' hush, his voice still husky and low.

Misty hummed, unfazed by this. "I'll be ready," she assured, lacing their fingers and giggling when Ash brushed a butterfly kiss against the base of her wrist. "I just have to fix my hair and makeup… and put my underwear back on…"

"And get a new dress," Ash added solemnly, dark eyes serious.

The young woman's face hardened a fraction. "Excuse me?" she drawled, lifting herself up enough to glare at the man trapped beneath her, an unspoken warning in her gaze. "What's wrong with _this_ dress?"

"Well, it's white," he pointed out—though by now he couldn't keep the boyish grin off of his face, nor the taunting lilt out of his tone. "And I don't think you're allowed to wear a white dress if you're not a virgin anymore…"

Misty leveled him a flat stare. But it soon turned impish, a devious mischievousness glittering in the depths of her sea-colored eyes. "How do you know I was a virgin when I _bought_ the dress?"

His face drained of color. Then turned slightly green.

And Misty just laughed. "Oh, come off it, Ash," she snorted, poking him teasingly in the chest. At the amusement in her words, the young man visibly relaxed—but still looked a smidgen pouty. "You know you're my first, only, and last. Don't be stupid."

"Well, it wasn't funny," he humphed.

Misty rolled her eyes. "Neither was your crack about my dress. Do you know how much this damn thing cost?"

"And yet, here you are, using it to dust the floor…"

"Only after it was scrubbed clean by your equally expensive white tux."

Damn. She had him there. Then again, he didn't think he'd _ever_ won a verbal sparring match against Misty… Not that he'd admit that to _her_, of course. And so, per usual, Ash set his face and steeled his resolve and refused to yield: for five full minutes the pair simply stared at one another, as if mentally willing the other to admit defeat.

Yeah. Right.

"…look," Misty suddenly murmured, smirking slightly as she tapped her lover's nose with the tip of her finger. "We can't lay here all day and wait for you to accept the fact that I just creamed you in… well, more ways than one, but most importantly in a battle of wits. So how about this— you issue me a challenge, and once I reign victorious, you can admit how superior I am and then we can go get married."

Ash paused, mulling this offer over. The chance to humiliate Misty by proving her utterly _wrong_ was a game that had never once lost its appeal, not since they were children. Unfortunately, if he went through with this, there was always the off chance that she might win… but no, he'd just have to rig it so that such a thing couldn't happen. He'd simply have to issue her an impossible task.

Which the fates had conveniently offered him on a silver, sex-soaked platter.

With a growing leer, the young man nodded. "All right, then," he chuckled, eyes half-lidded and dark with good humor. "I bet you… that you can't fix your hair and makeup in the span of five minutes."

Misty arched a delicate eyebrow. "Oh really? I bet I can."

"I'd like to see you prove that."

"Fine."

"And to make sure you don't cheat…" Ash continued in a purr, looping his arms around her lithe form and slipping a hand up her lengthy skirt, "I'm going to have to find a way to distract you until the very last second."

His blithe bride chuckled, mouth curling into an amused grin.

"You just try it."

**X**

"_Wow… I stand corrected_," Ash whispered half an hour later, lips barely moving as the preacher before them spoke in grave tones about love. "_You look… God, Misty, you look gorgeous…_"

The young woman beamed, clearly pleased with herself. And Ash had to admit—for once, he was thrilled to be wrong. "_Told you. Though I confess, I didn't have time to do _everything_…"_

…well, that was rather cryptic. Blinking twice in rapid succession, Ash's awe-struck expression morphed into one of mild bafflement. "_What do you mean? Your hair and makeup are perfect…"_

A rosy glow blossomed on Misty's rouged cheeks; she had always loved his flattery. "_Thank you_," she quietly returned, careful to keep her eyes on the minister. "_But if you recall, there was something else I lost during our escapades. And I didn't have time to put it back on."_

_What the…?_ She wasn't making any sense— she was the embodiment of a beautiful bride. Her makeup was flawless, soft and complimentary; her hair had been swept back into an elaborate knot; her shimmering veil had been pinned in place with a perfectionist's precision. What else had she removed while they were—?

Realization dawned on Ash's face in the form of an open-mouthed gasp and a vibrant blush. Beside him, Misty smirked.

"_I'll prove it later,_" she breathed, sending him a wink over her bouquet of lilies and roses. It was a promise that made Ash's smile positively goofy.

He could not _wait_ for the honeymoon.

**XXX**


End file.
